


cheap horrors

by euborne



Series: we're all a little crazy [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Blood, Minor Character Death, Psychological Horror, self beta, some vague descriptions of gore, very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euborne/pseuds/euborne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wherein yugyeom is skilled at making people do what he wants and mark is no exception</p>
            </blockquote>





	cheap horrors

 Her lips are pretty.

 

Pretty, pretty.

 

Her whole face is pretty, eyes closed, eyelashes so long they cast shadows over her cheeks. Her face is paling by the minute but the rose color in her cheeks is still visible under her skin. Her lips are curled into a half smile and Mark thinks it's not a bad way to die. If he didn't know better he would think she was sleeping.

 

God, Yugyeom has always loved pretty things. Mark thanks his lucky stars (albeit they might be dim) that he was born pretty, smooth skin, big eyes, the planes of his face sharp and angled. Yugyeom always tells him this (Yugyeom always tells him how beautiful he is, how much he loves him, how much he loves his smile, his teeth when he drives them into the flesh of Yugyeom's collarbones so deep he tastes copper.) and Mark soaks it all in like water on dry soil.

 

He remembers the same pretty lips latching onto Yugyeom's, the same lashes closing over her eyes in pleasure as Yugyeom had grabbed her by the waist. The memory brings his blood to boil, shivering under his skin like the after-tremors of an earthquake.

 

"Hey, Mark." Yugyeom whispers atop of his head and a few loose hairs flutter at his breath. "Don't you like blood? Why poison?"

 

Mark likes blood, Mark loves it. Red, splattered across the floor, droplets still at his feet. Blood that pours out of mouths like waterfalls. Rose red, lipstick red, red like life.

 

But blood is ugly, dirty, and Yugyeom has only ever loved pretty things.

 

He doesn't answer, just buries his head further into Yugyeom's neck so he feels Yugyeom's heart under his lips.

 

 

 

 

"Hey, Mark."

 

In their time together Mark has learned Yugyeom loves talking. Sometimes it's meaningless stuff, talking about things that don't concern either of them anymore (the rise and fall in money currencies, the most recent drama they're airing on TV, the cities in Europe he wants to visit, the artists he likes) and sometimes he asks Mark questions. Mark thinks he's told Yugyeom everything he wants to know, everything there is to know about him. Yugyeom knows Mark inside and out, like a species at a biology class table, a scalpel at his hands and the soft flesh of Mark's belly open and gaping. Yugyeom always surprises him.

 

"Hey, Mark." He says. "Do you love me?"

 

There's genuine curiosity laced in his voice, eyes innocent and huge and he could have fooled Mark. He could have fooled anybody.

 

Mark sighs, eyes fluttering closed. "I do."

 

Yugyeom rests his head on Mark's shoulder, hair tickling Mark's neck. "Would you do anything for me?"

 

"Anything."

 

Yugyeom sighs, bringing his legs under himself. "I see."

 

 

 

But ultimately, there's a moment that Mark expects, always, and it comes, inevitably and suddenly. That's Yugyeom's nature, and it's his by default. That's Mark's nature as well, a bit different, but, after all, linked. Mark knows this, he does, but he loses his mind every time and his stomach screams like a vulture, his head ripping itself in two as his vision blacks out.

 

That's Yugyeom, with his hips slotting to somebody else's, his hands guiding theirs to his hips. It's a pretty boy, Mark notes offhandedly, as his breath seethes between his teeth. He forces himself to calm down, knuckles white and skin stretched over his bones. It's a pretty boy, with big lips, and nice thighs and it's all that Yugyeom loves and Mark loathes. His hand closes over the knife under his jacket, as if for comfort. _Kill him, gut him, let his blood spill_ , his mind screams but his feet stay glued to the ground. His fingers untangle from the handle. He's long learned not to use his knife.

 

And the pretty boy is nice enough, when Yugyeom places soft lips over his, guarding him against the rhythm of the music, hand on his lower waist. He's nice enough when he and Yugyeom sit next to Mark because Yugyeom isn't feeling well. Oh, and Yugyeom really isn't feeling well, not at all, _not at all_. Yugyeom winks at him over the shoulder of the boy, smile revealing carnal teeth, a wolf's bite. _Sometimes_ , Mark thinks, _Yugyeom is scarier than I am_. And it's the truest in the moment when Yugyeom excuses himself to go to the bathroom, dusting invisible crumbs off his pants and the boy turns around the front. Mark knows Yugyeom is possibly just a few steps away, hiding in the shadowed corner of the room.

 

"You don't seem like a regular here." The boys eyes are hostile and Mark wants to break his nose. Instead he laughs, in a way that shows his teeth, in a way he knows he makes people trust him. "Don't worry, I'm just being nice."

 

He isn't being nice, he's anything but nice. But the boy's posture relaxes and Mark wants to laugh at the ridiculousness. So easy, always, and so close. So close he can feel the human warmth that rolls off the other in waves. So close he can smell the life on him.

 

"I'm not a regular." The boy's eyes crinkle at the edge. "My friends dragged me out. Really, I'm no good with places like this."

 

Not the right place and the right time. That's all it comes down to. There are just some things you can't run from and your time has come. From now on you don't have a choice. It is all Mark's choice.

 

"Here, let me buy you a drink. I know the best stuff." Mark shakes his own glass, the ice clinking softly. "You'll get used to it."

 

The boy nods gratefully and smiles at him.

 

Mark carries death in his sleeve like an ace and he knows none of them expect it when they have it coming at them. Mark feels pity, sad, only for a moment. Ah, here, only if the boy hadn't turned his gaze away, only if he hadn't let it stray for the briefest of seconds to the place where Yugyeom had ventured. If he had watched his glass closely, observant of the embers in the drink, he might have seen what Mark had slipped inside. It's not like Yugyeom didn't know. He feels regretful, the boy as nice as they come. He swallows everything down with the next gulp of whiskey, the ace up his sleeve now down on the table.

 

Yugyeom is his.

 

He is Yugyeom's.

 

He doesn't know which one is true, which one isn't, or if maybe both of them are.

 

"Cheers." Mark says as he raises his glass but never lets it clink against the other boy's.

 

It is, after all, just a part of Mark's nature.

 

 

 

Yugyeom kisses him when they get home, hands under his shirt, hungry, and Mark flips him over, throws him on the bed. His hip bones slide against Yugyeom's stomach and he bites his shoulder, shirt slid off.

 

"Don't fucking do this again." Don't do it, don't do it, do it.

 

"I won't, I promise, I swear, I--" Mark cuts him off, a bite at Yugyeom's lips that tears off skin and blood trickles down his chin.

 

Yugyeom shivers and Mark can see the lie in his eyes. Not like he ever trusted him anyway. Mark just kisses him again, hand swiping Yugyeom's sweaty hair back.

 

 

 

The police files a missing person report two days later and it blows over all the news channels. Mark watches it as he swirls his spoon in the cereal, flakes already soggy. He turns it off. It's not like they're going to find the body. The eyes of the boy on the picture the police used, eyes smiling, crinkling by the edges, stay on the back of his eyelids for a week.

**Author's Note:**

> got7!psycho oneshot stories; there will be three of these. originally the first one was supposed to be jjp but inspiration is interesting like that; my tumblr is @yieungjae; my twitter is @taemsus; i'll start regularly posting fic updates on twitter, if any of you care


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